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Effects/Affects...



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Regarding the topic of how events of  Sept, 11 affected me and my book -
work.

Well, on Monday Sept, 10 our little shop had a urgent priority of 2
books which we were to bind.  On Monday we worked hard and by the end of
the day the covers were finished, text-blocks sewn, and endpages
applied.  All that remained was to apply the cover to the text-blocks
and press the completed books.  We'd planned to begin that on Tuesday
morning first thing.  Then on Tuesday morning as I was having my morning
coffee the world changed and nothing has since been done toward
finishing the two books.  Nor has work on the many other book related
projects begun.

My partner and I spent all of Tuesday and some of Wednesday trying to
contact people we knew in New York and Washington D.C.   Thank goodness
all of the people we tried to contact have since reported that they are
alive and well.

But still, real work has yet to commence.

I feel sad, angry and upset. My partner and I have spent time talking
together about things.  We've  both spent more time than usual on-line
looking at newspaper reports from around the world, reading lists like
this one and others.  I guess its been a time where we've needed to
reach out to the world rather than put our 'noses to the grindstone' and
work in our solitary studios.   We've needed to talk and write, not
work.
I know I've written more emails than usual.  I've also written more in
my own handmade journal.
I've taken more time to pet my cats and play with my dogs.  I've taken
more time to talk with friends.

I've also stood in the studio and looked at our handmade paper
collection.  Just looked at the colors and touched the various paper
surfaces.  I've handled our various silk book-mark ribbon spools and
felt the soft smoothness. My bone folder, the archival glue, the plastic
right-angle triangles, the metal ruler - all familiar worn tools of the
trade - but they seem apart from me this week.  Usually they feel like
extensions of my hands.  As normal and familiar as breath. But not now.
I've even looked at my X-acto knife in a vastly different manner.  How
could such a thing ever become a weapon?  How could anyone take an
innocent ordinary object and use it to kill?  Why??
I don't understand.
I don't know I ever will.

So I write this and hope that perhaps tomorrow we will finish those two
books, which now don't seem to be such urgent priorities.

Sue Clancy

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